The Life Story of Sven Peter Erickson

My grandfather, or my father’s father, Sven Peter Erickson, was born 4 September 1932, in Sweden.  One place it is written, Oskhol Sogn , Sweden and another place we find it written Eskilstrena Soldermanland, Sweden.  His father, Erik Peterson was born 18 December 1806, at Dahlsland, Sweden. His mother, Anna Maria Olson, was also born in Sweden.

We only have record of three of their children; my grandfather, one sister named Anna Stina Erickson and a boy named Carl who came to America and lived in Salt Lake City.  His youngest boy, Charley, has worked for Z.C.M.L. for more than thirty years.  He is now carrying on Temple work his father started, although he married a non-Mormon.

It was the custom in Sweden for the boys to leave home and go seek work when they were twelve years of age.  So Grandpa left home and drifted to Norway, where he met and married my grandmother, Nicolena Erickson who was born 8 October 1839 at Moss Jarvosk, Norway.  Her father’s name was Gunder Erickson and her mother’s name as Bertha Nielson.

Grandpa and Grandma Erickson were married 22 July 1859, in Norway.  They both embraced the Gospel in Norway the year following their marriage.  The one great desire of their hearts was to leave the old country and come to Utah in America to be with the body of the Saints.

Grandpa was ordained an Elder in 1861 at Frederickstad, Norway.  Grandpa and Grandma endured many hardships after joining the church.  At one time they sold all their property and belongings and came to Christania, which is now Oslo, ready to sail to America.  They were coming under the “Immigration Fund Act.”  Upon arriving in Christiania, they found to their disappointment that there was only enough money in the fund sent from Utah for one of them to go.  Grandpa wanted Grandma to go, and Grandma wanted Grandpa to go, but neither one would leave the other.  So they both went back to Frederickstad, and Grandpa got his old job back and worked and prayed for one more year, and again went to Christiania.  This time there was money for both of them to sail for Utah in America to join the Saints.  After sailing for more than three weeks they landed in the New York harbor with three small children, and their few belongings.  They had buried a baby boy and their only little daughter in the old country of Norway.  They buried this little girl in a grave with two feet of water in the bottom of it.  This grieved Grandma as long as she lived for she often spoke of it during her lifetime and wished she could have been buried here in this grand country of America.  So great was their faith that they sent their oldest son Magnus, who was then eleven-years old to Utah with a Mormon missionary named Weiby from Manti, Utah, not knowing when or if ever they would see him again.  This happened three years before my grandparents left Norway.  He joined his parents at Manti, Utah and settled with them in Ephraim, Utah.

The day after they arrived in Ephraim, their sixteen-month old baby died.  He had been sick from the time they set sail from Norway and Grandma had held him in her arms for the last nine days of the journey, never lying him down for one single minute.  She wouldn’t even let Grandpa take him to rest Grandma all during these nine days.

The family lived in Ephraim for twenty-two years, where three more children were born.  Peter, who died when he was six-years old, John, and my father.

The family owned a five-acre plot of land in Ephraim.  Grandpa always worked for wages.  His occupation or trade was a stonemason.  He worked on the Manti Temple for many years as a stonemason.  He would walk seven miles from his home in Ephraim to Manti every morning to work on the Temple and back every night to be with his family.

The family moved from Ephraim to Fish Haven, Idaho, when Dad was fourteen-years old on 9 June 1896, where they lived for thirteen years.  Then they went to Richfield, Sevier County, Utah in the early spring of 1909 because Grandma had to go to a lower climate for her health.  (She had asthma)

Grandpa and Grandma were the most congenial couple I ever knew.  Old acquaintances, neighbors, and friends of theirs say they never heard them quarrel or even speak a cross-word to each other all during their life time.  My grandparents were very religious.  I believe people who hear the gospel and join the church because they know it is true really appreciate and love it more than we who are born and raised Latter Day Saints.

Grandpa died at Richfield, Utah, October 10, 1914.  Grandma lived nearly two lonesome years alone, then followed Grandpa to the great beyond 3 July 1916.  They are both buried in Richfield, Utah.